Well, I'll Be Damned

Mila is participating in a dance camp this week.

I repeat: Mila is participating in a dance camp this week.

Those are certainly words I never expected to see strung together. Mila was born to be her sister's opposite in every way, so she has been super loud and assertive with her opinion that dance is fine for other people, but she has no interest. To properly grasp how very infuriating this is for Alexis, you have to picture the level of desperation she has when she tries to get Mila to learn any sort of dance steps. It is on par with my frustration when I discover that someone has left a closet door open AGAIN for the 139587193842358th time today.

Mila loves infuriating Alexis, thus, she goes all in on her refusal to enjoy anything dance related.

AND YET.

What happened was a particularly great teacher. She has always, for all of Mila's life, stopped to greet the Tiny Human and then asked, "When are you going to come dance with me?" Mila always says, "Nuh-uh!" except this one time she didn't. We were at Alexis' recital and in a crowd of chaos, the teacher made a point to deliver her usual greeting to Mila and Mila was all, "OK!" Words were exchanged, a theme for the dance camp was mentioned, and that was it.

Mila asked to go to dance camp.

I was suspicious. I signed her up anyway, fully expecting her to bail after ten minutes. NO WAY would she participate all week.

GUESS WHAT SHE'S DOING. It's day 3. She's loving every second and has magically turned into a reasonable human because she's worried that if she doesn't, I'll take away dance camp. Mila is listening and following directions and generally being an awesome little learner.

I mean, she's like a bull in a China shop and spending more time chatting with her new friends than dancing, but still. SHE IS PARTICIPATING.

Who knew such a thing was possible?

The Evil Mother Strikes Again

My children would like for you to gather round. Make yourself comfortable for they have a story to tell. It's a story of an evil mother and all of her evil ways and how those evil ways are ruining their lives OMG.

Mila wants to go first.

As Mila is describing all of the ways that I'm a terrible, no-good human, she's going to have to admit to something - I took her shopping this weekend. When the forecast called for rain and chill, I took a left turn at Albuquerque and declared it a "let's go to the mall!" sort of day. Both girls think the mall is almost as good as Disney World and it's even better when I'm willing to let them each get one thing.

That was the offer. One store. One item.

While Alexis was drunk on the possibilities, Mila was focused. She rocketed her way to the Disney Store and began rummaging through the racks. She was in that mood that preschoolers do so well - simultaneously ecstatic and ready to rip your head off. Giggling one minute and growling (literally ... she literally growled at me) the next. She should have been holding a sign that said, "Caution: Moody Preschooler Ahead."

Once she discounted all of the toys, she remembered that there are really fun swimsuits at the Disney Store. And OMG! the happy. So much happy dripped from her everything as she dug through the rack of swimsuits, carefully considering which one she should leave with.

Our first fight was over the purple swimsuit. I think it was a Villain thing or something. It doesn't really matter because the one Mila grabbed should fit her right around the time that she's old enough to drive. It would be too big for Alexis, for goodness sake, so I don't know why I was standing there arguing with a 4-year old about her wanting to buy a swimsuit that didn't fit. It REALLY didn't fit. Mila was cool with buying a swimsuit that she could lend to an elephant and I wasn't.

When we were done fighting about that, Mila moved on to another swimsuit. This time she was more reasonable in her choice, so she now has a super cute Aristocats swimsuit that she will probably never wear because ZOMG WHY DID I BUY THE KID A SWIMSUIT ON A DAY SHE COULDN'T SWIM?

Our pool isn't heated. By the time we got home that day, the water was a cool 65 degrees. That means we could have spent 20 minutes preparing to let Mila swim and then watching her dip one toe in before screeching and running away. I didn't want to, though. Alexis didn't want to either. And, well, no four-year old of mine gets to go swimming alone. So I became the Mayor of Nopelandia and just kept telling Mila she could swim another day.

She put the swimsuit on anyway. As you do.

And we fought.

And we fought.

And we fought.

Because what kind of mother refuses to let her kid get hypothermia? SHE WANTED HYPOTHERMIA, DAMMIT. I ruin all of her hopes and dreams.

Of course, it occurred to me to let her swim in the bathtub right around 10:30 pm when she was still awake and still pissed at me because I'm so evil. By then it was too late so whatever. She fell asleep in the swimsuit, which was good because my money says she will refuse to wear it ever again. This weekend when it's 90 degrees, I guarantee that kid will have zero interest in the pool.

And yet the girls say I'm the evil one. MMMHMMMMM.

The Beast Strikes

I would like a do-over on the weekend, please, but only after Mila has had an attitude adjustment because OMG.

That child.

Miss Mila has purposely and aggressively nose-dived her way into a ditch of frustratingly awful behavior. I have no doubt that she's doing it by choice because I see her face as she makes up her mind to follow through on a bad decision. For example, she's antagonizing her big sister CONSTANTLY, which, do you know who is best at antagonizing a human? Their siblings. Always.

Mila is doing little things like ripping bookmarks out of Alexis' books. Alexis, for reasons I don't comprehend, typically reads 3-4 books at a time and thus SUPER needs the bookmarks to keep track of where she is. (BTW, unrelated, she still does that thing where she reads the last chapter first so that she knows if she wants to read the whole book. It still makes me insane.) Mila is also speaking over Alexis and generally being a bully. If you're questioning how a 35-pound 4-year old can bully a 7th grader, don't. It's VERY possible.

Mila is also just generally being a jerk. There was a point yesterday when we were in the mall and I sensed at least three teenage girls vowing to NEVER have sex because Mila was putting on a birth control show. Alexis wanted to shop in Hollister, Mila didn't want to be there, and zoooooom. The Tiny Human just left. She blew out of that store as if her little behind was on fire, which it probably should have been since 4-year olds shouldn't run out in the mall by themselves. She caught me in a Catch-22 with it as well because if I legit chase her, even while angry, she decides the whole thing is a fun game. She absolutely will run straight to an escalator and nose-dive down it just to win the game.

The child has no sense of self-preservation at all.

So instead of chasing her, catching her, and threatening her life or whatever it is that parents are supposed to do in these situations, instead I have to lurk behind her and pretend I don't care that she's running off. I get bonus points if she can't see me because then she might get curious as to what I'm doing and head back the correct direction. I can't count on it though because SHE'S FOUR FREAKIN YEARS OLD. BTW, as she was running away, she was screaming, "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" at the top of her lungs.

So that's adorable.

Which is all to say, I lost it by the end of the weekend. I am usually remarkably patient to the point that I surprise even myself. It's just really hard to ruffle my feathers, but OH. THEY. WERE. RUFFLED.

I yelled, you guys.

I don't yell.

You can ask Alexis. She will confirm that she can count on one hand the number of times I have yelled at her. When she confirms it, she'll also tell you that she deserved it as she tells you the detailed story of the events that led to that moment.

Mila, though. She just doesn't care. Yelling is funny hahahahahaHAHAOMG.

::deep breaths::

::sob::